


Reunited at Last

by clowncowboyz



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Some Fluff, its mostly angst, richie is not as spastic bc hes an adult now, someone help eddie he's so sad and so gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 20:21:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19471474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clowncowboyz/pseuds/clowncowboyz
Summary: Myra Kaspbrak calls into a radio station and ends up winning a completely paid expense to LA for her and Eddie, hosted by none other than famous radio talk show host, Rockin’ Rich. Little does Eddie know(or remember), that ‘Rockin’ Rich’ is actually his old pal Richie Tozier. It takes meeting him again to remember Derry, that unspoken of It, and most importantly, his major crush on Richie Tozier. Older and more in the closet than ever, Eddie must revisit his past without completely unraveling for a full week.





	Reunited at Last

“Eddie-bear, will you get over here?” Myra shrieked in a command, despite the air of question to the sentence. ‘Eddie-bear’ knew better than to believe that it was ever up for debate on if he could or couldn’t actually go over to her. No, Eddie-bear, formally Edward Kaspbrak, casually Eddie K., and dear ‘Eddie-bear’ to the only two women in his life he’d ever been  _ graced _ with the chance to kiss had called him.

At the ripe age of forty-one, Eddie Kaspbrak had seemingly settled down for the rest of his arduous life; he had a nice little two story home outside of New York City, all blue paint and trimmed grass(which they had to hire people to mow for them thanks to Myra insistent crying that Eddie’s grass allergy would come back and poison him while he was mowing and he’d somehow end up needing to be rushed to the hospital). He had a stable business, owning a limo company for the rich and famous and occasionally for other parties like high school proms if they paid well enough. Best of all, he had a wife, Mrs. Myra Kaspbrak, love of his life and the apple of his eye. She and him had met back in the early 2000’s when Eddie had been just building up his company with his mother. Myra had come in one hot August afternoon, her dark brown hair plastered to her forehead with sweat and the makeup on her eyes had begun to smudge under her lower lashline. She was already only a bit smaller than his own mother at that point, but Sonia Kaspbrak had taken some kind of liking to the woman. Myra had come in asking about the “HELP WANTED” sign that had posted outside for a solid three weeks, and asked if they were taking any kind of desk jobs she could work in, practically slapping her own lightweight manilla folder on the table Sonia was sat in, Eddie leaning his back against the wall. Inside was a bland and generally unhelpful resume, yet despite all that Sonia had signed her up to take over her own job as the receptionist. Eddie had been completely thrown for a loop when he was told this the next day by his mother, and when he asked why she was so willing to not only give up the job, but give it up to someone with the bare minimum of requirements, she’d stated that she herself was getting too old for it all(despite the job consisting entirely of sitting and typing) and that she saw good things in Myra. It wasn’t until she’d set up a date for the two of them that Eddie realized that the  _ good _ she saw in Myra then, was really just her way of saying she saw  _ herself _ in Myra. That wasn’t anything he’d admit until much later in his life, after a few fateful events, and even then, diving too far deep into the idea that he was only married to this woman because she reminded him so, so much of his now departed mother was a bit too much for him to handle without at least a gallon of scotch in his system. But he loved her. He loved Myra, and he was absolutely certain she loved him, if her smothering attitude was anything to go off of. It was okay though. He lived with it now, he’d lived with it before, and he’d live with it forever.

So when Myra yelled again for him to come over, he very quickly finished scrubbing his hands with far too much hand sanitizer and all but sprinted over to the big woman sat at their beautifully white marbled table. “Eddie, love, you’ve gotta come quicker next time or else you might miss the chance again,” Myra spoke in her whiny high voice as Eddie pulled up his chair next to her at the table. In front of him was a bowl full to the brim, almost leaking, of chili he’d made the other night reheated. He watched as she shoved spoonfuls down her throat, gulping on nothing in particular when a bean peaked out of her mouth, only for her to slurp it up in a completely obscene way(not sexually, lord no, just… gross). Her laptop was perched on the table to the side of her chili and a bright blue page was pulled up with nothing but a phone number and the words  _ It could be you! _ In obnoxiously clashing orange font.

“What’s this all for, dear?” he asked, accent accentuating the ‘dear’ to more of a ‘deea’ than anything. He then took a bite of his chili, noticing the oddly starchy texture there that he was certain wasn’t there before, but complaining about it would only make Myra feel like it was her fault, and lord knows he didn’t need another breakdown this month.

“Well, if you’d actually listen to me when I talk to you at work, you’d know it’s for the CNN,” She groaned, as if saying that alone made her point any bit obvious. Eddie only looked at her with his eyebrows raised, and it finally seemed like she’d gotten the hint. “That talk show and radio show host I like, Rockin’ Rich? He’s hosting an all expense paid trip to Los Angeles, as long as  _ we’re _ -” She put a severe amount of pressure on the we’re as she typed the phone number into her shitty IPhone 5 that she refused to get upgraded. “-the fiftieth caller at exactly seven thirty,”. Eddie looked at the tiny clock displayed on the upper right of the laptop screen, reading  _ 7:26 _ .

His hand ran almost involuntarily over his face, his eyes going into his famous puppy dog look he always had to put on when talking to Myra about these situations(it was the same look he’d given his mother when she’d get calls from unknown numbers on the home phone claiming to be from the IRS). “Myra, even if this was real-”

“Which it is,”.

“-Sure, but I doubt it’ll be fully paid for, and we just don’t have the kind of cash for that sorta thing right now,” his eyes ran over the clock again, then flitting up to see Myra looking at him as if he’d just told her she was never allowed to breathe air again. With a deep, resentful sigh, Eddie smiled lightly. “It doesn’t mean we can’t try though, I suppose,”.

“If we get this, I know you’ll absolutely love it, love it!” She bellowed, her cheek fat bunching up around her eyes as she smiled. The two sat for the next few moments, listening as Myra turned on the radio from her computer and held her phone anxiously in her hands, the tiny screen almost completely hidden in the fat of her fingers. When the clock turned 7:30, Myra screamed and hit the call button, waiting as the rings ran in. The person on the radio, Rockin’ Rich, was laughing as the sound of phones went off all around him in the distance. He mumbled about being excited to find out who it was for a solid fifteen seconds before finally picking up the phone.

“Hello, this is Rich speakin’, here to tell you that you are the fiftieth caller!” the sound echoed around, static resonating in their dining area from the shock of both the computer and Myra’s phone screaming the same audio. In total shock, Myra screamed, Eddie stared at the table in disbelief, shutting the laptop to get rid of the horrible sounds. That same laughter he’d heard seconds ago on the radio was being heard through the call and it took a few seconds for it to calm down, along with Myra’s screaming(he winced at the noise, but remained as still as before). “Hey there darlin’, what’s your name?”

“My-My name?” Myra asked, incredulously, as if there was anyone besides her that Rich would be asking. “Myra, my name’s Myra Kaspbrak,”. Her voice was labored from the yelling and Eddie could tell her heart was going a hundred miles per hour by the way her chest shook with each gasp. He was tempted to run to the medicine closet to get his inhaler, but her left hand was squeezing his right thigh in a bit of a death grip and he wasn’t going to leave her like this.

“Kaspbrak, huh?” the voice said, sounding suddenly a bit dazed and glossier than Eddie had ever heard. Now paying full attention to his surroundings, Eddie listened in closely to the conversation. “Well Myra, where’d you live? And don’t give me an address just yet-” The promise of ‘just yet’ left Eddie feeling a bit odd, but the radio guy continued on, “-so general city would be just dandy,”. God, why’d this guy speak like he was an announcer for some baseball game in the forties? Something familiar about it all irked Eddie, made his stomach churn a bit, though he blamed it all on indigestion.

“My husband and I live in New York City, sir,” Her voice mellowed out a bit, going all sweet around the edges as her face blushed a rosy red. Eddie couldn’t remember if there was ever a time she’d blushed like that for him.

“ ‘That so? What’s your husband’s name?”

“Eddie-bear-”

“Um, just-just Eddie,” He butt in, fumbling over his words as Myra’s pet name for him simply slipped out. The embarrassment of being called ‘Eddie-bear’ on live radio was hitting him hard, and if he didn’t want to go to bed already, he definitely wanted to now.

“Hold on… your name is Eddie Kaspbrak?” The radio man said, low and almost quiet. Eddie silently wondered if the radio mics would even be able to pick up such a quiet sound.

“...Yes?”

“Well then,” He coughed, then brought that chipper voice back into his persona and carried on. “I’d like to congratulate you both on your winning! Next week, we’ll fly the two of you out on a full paid trip to stay with me and my sweet dog for a whole five days in sunny California! The next call you hear from us will be on my own phone to further exchange details, so get ready for that one, and I hope you both have a really rockin’ night, Mister and Misses Kaspbrak!” and with that, the line went silent.

\--------

The next time the phone had rung was a day later at roughly one PM. Myra had been taking one of her milk baths that promised to cleanse the pores or whatever, leaving Eddie to pick it up for her. He was doing nothing particularly fun, scrolling around his phone, checking their banking information. Once he heard the phone ring for a third time, he sauntered over to where Myra had left her phone charging in their lofty room and unplugged it to see an unknown number with a completely different area code than he was used to seeing.

Picking it up by the grip of her tacky pink fluffy phone case, he spoke, “Eddie Kaspbrak, who am I talking to?” using his most neutral voice he could. At the time, Myra had been telling him his phone voice had been far too feminine sounding, and that made  _ her  _ uncomfortable for whatever strange Myra reason she had. Not a big deal though, Eddie could deepen his voice if he focused on it.

“Oh! Well, um- Hi there, Eddie, this is R-”

“Rich, yes! We completely forgot you’d be calling, sorry for the hostility,” Eddie rambled when he realized who he was talking to. The night before, once Myra had falling to sleep from an adrenaline crash, he’d gone onto google in search of checking the safety of this ‘Rockin’ Rich’ guy he and his wife would be spending the next week with. Turned out he was a man of relative secrecy. His face was nowhere to be found, aside from some horrible low-res pictures of him at a couple radio events, but his face was still pretty hidden then. What he could make out was the guy’s skinny, long and tall body. He seemingly had a nice black mop of hair atop his head, and he dressed like what most people on TV that lived in L.A. dressed like; skinny jeans and a goofy graphic tee of some kind, a bomber jacket over it. There were accounts of people meeting him, all describing him as a fun and sweet person, that when recognized for his voice, he usually would crack some kind of wild joke, do an impression or simply just smile and thank them for listening in. The official website of his radio said he was thirty six and that all people needed to know was that his name was something along the lines of “Rich”. There were also a few lists of different awards his show had been nominated for, some he won too. Overall, Eddie gathered that he seemed all clear on the safety side of things.

“No worries, guy. By the way, I don’t usually give this out, but my name’s Richie To-” The voice over the phone stuttered a bit, “Richie T. I’d give you the full name and all that, but I prefer to give you the whole life story when we get to know each other in person, ya feel me?” Eddie chuckled, picking up on a bit of an East coast accent hidden behind all his funny personality talking.  _ Richie T _ . Huh. Something about the name made Eddie's head hurt, like he knew that name from childhood,  _ Richie Tack, Richie Toad, Richie Ticked?  _ The more he thought about it, the worse he started to feel about the whole meeting thing. “Anyways, I called to give you my address is all and your flight number, so might want to grab out a pen and paper,” Eddie fumbled around their room, finding an old post-it note stack and a free pen he’d got at an event for a red carpet premiere. “Say, where’s the wifey, Myrtle was it?”

“ _ Myra _ , actually, and she’s just in the bath,”. He felt weird giving what seemed like a kind of personal piece of information about his wife out, but it wasn’t like Richie could’ve done anything from across the country.

“Alrighty then,” there was something about his voice that seemed like he wanted to make a joke but was desperately holding it back. “The flight leaves at six AM on Thursday, and you’ll be getting to LAX by nine AM our time. From there, I can pick you up and we can head over for the two of you to set your stuff down and get situated. I live in east Malibu, right on the beach- tiny house, not as grand as it all seems, but I live- so uh, if you want to burn in the sun and get sand stuck up your board shorts, you’re welcome to do that,”. 

Richie went on about the weeks plan, laying out their communal trips to the La Brea tar pits, Disneyland, Universal Studios, the Natural History Museum, and a few days to do nothing but enjoy that sweet West coast air. Eddie was thankful that Richie seemed to have so much of this planned out, considering he knew if Myra and he were given the choice, she’d want nothing more than to go to all the touristy destinations, ridden with hoards of sick people and drugs, all things that scared Eddie like no tomorrow.

Only reason the phone call ended was that Myra had stormed in out of the bathroom in her Gucci bathrobe Eddie had bought for her. “Who are you on the phone with, Eddie dear?” She squealed. Nearly dropping the phone, he looked over to her.

“Rich from the radio. He’s been giving me all the details of the trip, dear,”. 

“Well, can I talk to him? It’s my phone anyways,”. Part of Eddie didn’t want to stop talking to Richie. He barely knew a thing about the man(so he thought), but he was already starting to like the guy’s way of talking, liked his goofy attitude. Even liked his voice, a thick Maine sounding accent. So much of it reminded him of his own, but with a less nasally tone. Less girly sounding. 

“Sure thing. Richie?” the voice on the other end hummed, picking up on the couple’s conversation. “I’m gonna hand the phone over to Myra, if you could just explain it to her,”.

“Got it. Talk to you later, Eds,”. Suddenly, like a waterfall had hit him dead over the head, like a volcano had struck him down, like a sea creature(a turtle) had pulled him deep into the water, his lungs filling with fluid, Eddie realized who exactly he was talking to. Richie. He was talking to his Richie, Richie  _ Tozier _ . No one in his whole life had called him Eds except for Richie  _ Tozier.  _ How had he forgotten? The Maine accent, the awful jokes, the lanky body he’d seen in those shitty TMZ photos? It was all so blatantly Richie, and yet it seemed like Eddie had completely forgotten about who Richie was at all. 

He needed to keep talking, needed to ask more, about why he couldn’t remember more, why his heart suddenly felt like it was missing something and why is head wouldn’t stop showing him images of sewers and broken arms and bikes and clowns. He needed to ask why the most vibrant images of Richie were all so much lighter than the rest, all with a pinkish hue, like some kind of photo filter. Instead though, Myra was stood there growing more and more impatient the longer Eddie sat in his own world of thoughts. Rather, all he managed to get out was “Don’t call me Eds,”. Seemed like a thing he needed to get out for decades.

\---------

The following days, right up until they’d gotten off the plane had been so vividly foggy for Eddie he thought his 20/20 vision was finally beginning to catch up to him, or that Myra had drugged him. Every thought was just another broken memory of his past. Things were starting to make sense, but he couldn’t exactly explain why or how. He’d been abruptly reminded of every person from his past- Bill, Mike, Stan, Beverly, Ben, even Henry Bowers and Mr. Nell, the old Irish cop- and just how he’d really broken his arm all those years ago. While sat on the six hour flight, he was reminded with a puking sensation of their times in the piss water barrens and all the times they rummaged through the old trash yard. He couldn’t come up with any good reason for why they’d done that at the time, but that overwhelming presence attached to all the memories assured him there was indeed a point to it all.

Walking out of the terminal after collecting their luggage, Eddie immediately felt that dry heat that encompass his whole body, sweat seeming to form almost immediately under him. His hand, which was being strangled by Myra’s own, was slick with it, her just as bad if not more so. He was unbelievably thankful when a big grey Jeep came up to where they were standing, the window being rolled down and inside a man with poofy dark hair and black tinted glasses. “Eddie and Myra K?” The accent was thick, and it was undeniably Richie.

“Yes! Yes that’s us!” Myra waved, grabbing for her overstuffed suitcase and lugging it over to the trunk of the car.

Eddie on the other hand, was still. His heart felt wild in his chest, in a way he only remembered from distant memories or youth. Looking straight at him was Richie Tozier, his old best friend, or one of them at least.  _ The Losers gang _ , as his mind so sweetly supplied for him. From what he could remember, not much of Richie’s face had changed. His face was only a bit longer than it had been back when he last saw him(had to be around when Eddie moved out for college), but his cheekbones were still just as sullen as before. He had lost most of his freckles on his face, but there were slight smatterings of them perched perfectly on his nose bridge. His eyes, though mostly hidden, still seemed just as soft and dazed, if the eye bags that hung lightly beneath the glasses were anything to go off of. Most of all was the lips, that Eddie noticed first. Not a single thing with those had changed, same rounded corners and dipped cupids bow. He resented his memories ability to so accurately trace the patterns of his friend’s(friend? Were they still friends? Had Richie even remembered him?) lips, but based on the way his heart jumped out of itself when Richie smiled wide towards him, he could tell there was more of a secret to uncover there. 

“How did you recognize us?” Eddie asked meekly, his shoes barely lifting off the ground to get closer. He stood at the edge of the curb, his left hand gripped so firmly on the handle of his Dolce and Gabbana suit case that he was worried blistered might have formed. Richie looked forward for a moment onto the cars and buses pulled ahead of him before he tilted his head back, lulling onto the headrest with a soft  _ thud _ . Carefully, he pulled his sunglasses off, revealing the exact same mopey brown eyes that Eddie remembered. He looked tired, and sappy, and yet all too sad. 

Looking Eddie dead in the eyes, listening as Myra slammed the trunk closed and began trudging up to the backseat door, Richie whispered so terribly casually it made Eddie want to die, “How could I forget my Eds?”.

The rest of the car ride was silent on Eddie’s part. For once, he was thankful for Myra’s constant need to question everything always. His cheeks remained red, and his eyes tear full, but never fully committing to crying, not when Myra could see him.

\-------------

“So,” Was the first thing Richie said when they got to his house. His description had been a bit underwhelming, to say the least. It was a beautiful three bedroom two story villa, with a massive window view of the beach, which had to be only forty steps away(Eddie and Myra briefly went over an emergency exit route in case of a tsunami). The trip had been pretty harsh on Myra, and after some long talks about who Richie was now, where he finally announced that his name was indeed Richie Tozier and that he was ‘very thankful to be with such nice people’, Myra had gone to their assigned bedroom to take a post arrival nap. This in theory, was perfectly fine and completely expected, since Eddie knew Myra had awful times on planes with her fear of heights and airborne diseases. Only issue was that now Eddie was alone with Richie, a childhood friend who he hadn’t been able to remember for the last two decades.

“So… what?” Eddie retorted, sounding a bit more irritated than he wanted to be. He was sitting on the couch in the open living room, watching as Richie leaned his slender body against the door frame of his own bedroom. The yellow paint bounced off his face and gave him an almost unreal glow in the light.

“Wait, come on,” his arms were crossed and his face looked disbelieving. “Do you really not remember?”. Suddenly Eddie’s eyes darted just about everywhere in the room but the man in front of him.

“I mean…” he wasn’t totally sure about how to answer it, but truthfully seemed like the best idea. “I didn’t until I-”

“Heard my name?” Richie’s eyes were wide as he walked over to sit next to Eddie on the couch. Eddie must’ve looked the same, since the next thing he said was “Me neither. Until I heard your name on that first call. I swear to god, I thought I was going to hurl, felt like my brain was moving a thousand miles a minute. The last name was enough to get my mind spinning, but hearing as clear as day  _ Eddie _ , it was so… gut wrenching,”. He was slumped over on himself, his forearms pressed firmly onto his knees, like a defeated soldier. “The last few days, I spent so in my head remembering the whole gang- you remember them, right?” So taken aback by all of Richie’s words, he only had the energy to frantically nod. “Anyways, I spent hours looking them up, found out what they’re all doing, aside from Stan and Mike,” Eddie distantly worried if they had died or something. “Thankfully, there are no death records of either a Mike Hanlon or a Stan Uris, so I think it’s safe to say the two are alive, just out of the public eye,”.

“You’re the same though, right? Gone from the public?” Eddie asked, leaning forward a bit as to not speak too loudly, seeing as Myra was still in the other room. It all felt so secretive, like if Myra heard them, she’d think they were insane for speaking in what must’ve appeared like tongues. Richie rose an eyebrow at the question, looking a bit confused. “I-I mean, after we got the initial, I couldn’t find you anywhere online,”.

“You weren’t looking for  _ Richie Tozier _ , though, were ya’?” Glancing to the side, unable to meet Richie’s slightly smirking face, he blushed embarrassed for being caught(not that him snooping was bad per say). “Nah, no one ever looks for him. They only know  _ Rockin’ Rich _ , the radio host. None of ‘em know any Tozier guy, which is just what I want. I’m online, I’ve got accounts for family and what little real friends I’ve got out here nowadays,” Eddie was acutely aware of how glum he looked saying that. A world where Richie wasn’t surrounded by people who liked him? It seemed completely out of the ordinary to him, since even when he was buck toothed and big glasses wearing, he still was always finding a way to be the center of attention. He’d hated that part of Richie as a kid, when all the other members of the Losers gang were stuck in high school as losers, Richie had gotten somewhat popular. It wasn’t even that Eddie wanted to be popular, rather he missed being around Richie all the time. “But I wanted my personas to the public and the real me to be distanced so I couldn’t get too caught up in the whole ‘Hollywood’ bullshit,”. He leaned back against the couch, eyes closing a bit. “How ‘bout you, Eds?”

His lips quirked up a bit at the nickname. Why had he hated it so much as a kid? He couldn’t remember anymore, and it hardly seemed important, but it still egged him on to say, with no real punch, “Don’t call me Eds,”. Richie laughed, hearty and so child like it was a bit off putting. “But um… I mean, after college, I got a job as a limo driver, and realized how nice it was to just drive around the big city. The company went up in flames not long after, but Ma-who lived with me at the time- insisted I bought it and took over. After a shit ton of useless paperwork and boring job interviews, we got our company running. It’s been weird without Ma around to help these last few years, but Myra and I manage,”. 

“How’d you two meet? You and Myra?” Richie asked, eyes full of… something almost painful looking, though his face didn’t seem to understand the feeling.

“She applied for a job, Ma forced us on a date, and it was honey from then on out. There were some… complications for a bit, but we got married a few years back, and decided to not have kids, so I guess things have been pretty decent for the two of us,”.

“Oh, how I miss Sonia, that big lovely woman. She ever talk about me? ‘Bout our nights together?” Richie asked in a fake love struck voice, his hands clasped around his face as if he was remembering a schoolyard crush.

“Beep beep Richie,”. The two looked at each other in disbelief before breaking out into a wave of laughter, toppling over themselves and coughing in between breaths. Finally catching his air after what felt like a few minutes of laughing red eyed, “How about you? Got a Miss Tozier?”The question made him chew his bottom lip nervously, feeling slightly like any kind of answer would upset him, but knowing exactly which one should.

“Nope,” He said pretty matter of factly. “Been with a few people across the years, this girl named Rebecca who I swear was the second best kisser I ever knew, one guy named Jackie-”

“A  _ guy? _ ” Eddie asked, rather incredulously. Richie nodded, his face blushing a little on his light skin. “Are you bi?”

“Not one for labels, but yeah, I suppose. Thought you knew that though,” His face looked a bit hurt, like Eddie was supposed to know he likes all genders. How could Eddie, though? He hadn’t seen the guy, even remembered him, in years. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh… well… It’s not important yet, I guess. You’ll probably remember it soon, seeing all these memories of flocking back incrementally on their own timeline of choice I guess,”. Still, there was something in Richie’s face that looked so… broken. Eddie felt like a big fucking asshole and he couldn’t even figure out what he’d done. Was Richie’s bisexuality really that big of his personality as a child and teen? Eddie was scratching to change the subject in any way he could, maybe to go see Myra to see if she’d woken up or anything to make Richie stop looking so upset. “You want to watch a movie or somethin’ until Myra wakes and we can start our tour?”

Eddie felt like crying tears of joy when he saw that same smile Richie used to sport reappear on his beautiful face. “I’m thinking Star Wars?”

“You read my mind, Eds,”.

\-----

Eddie was sure that after their talk in the morning that they’d act like everything was totally fine, they’d explain it all to Myra and they could be even closer than before. Instead, every time the three were together, he clammed up, couldn’t talk except for a few times to tell Richie to stop calling him Eds or to talk to Myra. There was something so rigid in it all, and for some unknown reason he felt jealous of himself when Myra was in the room with the other. The way Myra would hold his hand while they were in the car getting ready to go to their first stop at the tar pits had made Eddie feel like he was betraying a seemingly unknown person, as if his marriage with Myra wasn’t all that faithful. Logically he knew nothing about it was weird, but that pull to the past left him feeling dirty and sick.

Richie seemed to catch onto Eddie’s unease pretty quickly and made an effort to be as stranger-ly as possible, asking him and Myra the same bland ‘getting to know you’ questions,  _ “where’d you two grow up?” “What’s your favorite food?” “Where’d you go to college?” “You ever been to LA before?”  _ Eddie knew Richie knew where he grew up, they practically lived together at one point, he knew Richie knew his favorite food was still chicken piccata since he’d offered to cook it up one day this week for dinner. He vaguely remembered Richie helping him spell check his college essays and he was certain that Richie could tell by the way he ogled at every passing building that he’d never been to the west coast, much less LA, in his life. Part of the act was fun, it made him feel like he could move on from the weirdly recurring nightmares of  _ the clown _ , and more horrifyingly  _ the leper _ , which plagued Eddie’s mind more times than not now when he closed his eyes. It was also horribly boring though, because he  _ knew what Richie’s favorite ice-cream flavor was, _ he  _ knew that Richie had gone to UCLA for college,  _ he  _ knew Richie’s father, Wentworth, was a dentist _ .

Most importantly though, he hated lying to Myra. When he’d married Myra, he made a firm promise to never lie to her, to always fill her in on all parts of his life, and he truthfully thought that he had. That was until his whole life came crashing back onto him a thousand miles a minute and he was stuck in his own past as a shy little kid again with a fear of everything around him. That, at least, was something he didn’t have to lie to Myra about, seeing as his mother had met his wife and informed her loads about Eddie’s medications and allergies.

After the tar pits, the three went to dinner at the local In & Out, upon Myra’s request.

“Ya know,” Richie started, pulling up to the packed parking lot and setting down in front of the crossed palm trees. “I don’t want to ruin the surprise, but it really ain’t that great,”.

“No!” Myra gasped, walking herself up and into the main showroom as Richie held it open for her. It was only when he held it open for another few seconds that Eddie realized it was also being held open for him, an act he was so seldom used to. His cheeks flushed with heat, and Richie let out a breathy chuckle. In the old days, Richie would’ve said something snarky like “ _ Boy Eds, you must really really like me to get that red over something so little!” _ which Eddie would have undoubtedly punched him for. Now though, with his wife a few feet ahead of him, it all felt so… not Richie. Or rather, it felt like he was playing one of his stupid voices, this time of a middle aged man, one that doesn’t wear his stupid coke bottle glasses and have big buckteeth and tell mildly racist jokes. This character, as he was going to describe him, was  _ Rich _ and not  _ Richie. _ Or maybe he’d just changed, and Eddie hadn’t. He thought he stayed pretty much the same.

“I’m afraid it’s true, but I’d rather not mention it while in here, ‘fraid we’ll get beat up by the true locals,” Richie whispered near them, a smile on his face. God, his smile was so Richie, though. His lips looked extra plush in the harsh overhead lights of the building, and it looked like he was wearing a gloss or balm of some kind. It made him want to know the flavor. He knew Richie didn’t like vanilla that much, so he was guessing it’d be something stupid like cherry or chocolate or straw-

“Eddie-bear, what do you want?”. They were at the register, and Eddie was bright red. Had he really spent that whole time looking at Richie? At his  _ lips? _ What was wrong with him, that wasn’t something that married men did. That wasn’t something that  _ straight  _ married men did. And he was both of those things. 

“I-I’ll just get whatever Richie’s getting,” He stumbled out, eyes looking anywhere but Richie or Myra. He felt like he was going to spew chunks at this rate, getting far too into his head.  _ You’re not supposed to do that, Eds. You’re not supposed to stare at a guy’s lips, certainly not Richie’s lips.  _ With all the fear he’d been left with, he ran up to where Myra was ordering and smacked a kiss on her lips, all red with lipstick and creamy feeling. “I’ll get us a table, huh?” He practically sprinted over to the farthest table, a wall table with a look out of the now darkening night sky. Pressing his hands to his face and closing his eyes, he allowed himself to calm down finally. 

“You okay?” A deep voice said, scooting to sit on the other side from him. Richie was staring at him with a look only described as deeply concerned when he looked up at him. Great, he thought, just the person he wants to see right now.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine just…” He took a deep breath again and sighed. No way he was going to tell the truth, not right now at least. “Thinking about Derry is all,”. They shared a knowing look, both kind of lost for a moment.

“You-” Richie looked hesitant, leg shaking under the circular table dividing them. Eddie wanted to put a hand on his knee to still him. “Do you remember that day when we were all going out to Bill’s garage, but before we were watching the parade?” Eddie nodded, getting hit with another blast from the past. “I can still feel that guttural fear I had, despite acting like a total dumbass,”.

“That, I certainly remember. You tried to steal some poor band nerd’s tuba,” Eddie laughed into his hand. Richie smiled, biting his lips into his mouth for a moment. He checked around the restaurant, and Eddie noticed that Myra was still waiting up by the front for their food, a habit she’d picked up from Sonia during their few years together.

“Probably had it coming. Regardless, I was  _ so fucking scared _ . Like, we were just dumb kids and suddenly we were going to be tracking down some kid killer! And then, you just came up to me, with a cute little face-” Eddie blushed, “And handed me an ice-cream, like you knew exactly what I wanted. It was one of the nicest memories from that time, and the only one I can stand to remotely think about,”. Myra was walking over now, her dress jingling around her calves. “Anyways, I guess it’s a bit overdue, but thanks, Eds.”.

“No problem, Richie. But don’t call me that,”. Eddie’s eyes were watering a bit, feeling impossibly thankful to be around him. He missed this, and he didn’t even know it until two days ago. Myra sat next to him looking him carefully in the face.

“Oh! Eddie-dear, what’s wrong?” She rubbed her fry-greased hands over his eyes as Richie started noshing on his burger. “Are you making my sweet Eddie cry?” She pointed accusingly towards the dark haired man, and scowled. Richie just shrugged.

“No, no, my allergies are acting up. New climate and all,”. After years of it, Eddie had gotten horribly accustomed to lying and was tremendous at it when needed be. Clearly Richie caught it too, snickering into his food.

\-------------------

  
  


The following three days of the trip had been rather boring for Eddie. He spent most of his time around Myra looking at museums(which he did enjoy, he just spent more time in the giftshop thanks to her ever present needs to buy souvenirs for everyone she knew back home), and they’d even gone to Universal Studios. It was a lot of fun, and he enjoyed just about most of the time, except for when she convinced them all to leave far too early into the night because ‘Eddie looked like he was going to hurl’, which wasn’t true, he just hadn’t put on enough sunscreen and was beginning to pink a bit.

That was always the thing when it came to traveling with Myra; as much as she advocated for it, she hated seeing Eddie anywhere but home, and in turn it only made Eddie hate being around her away from the comforts of New York.

It was around three in the afternoon and Eddie was doing jackshit. He played on his phone, watched a few celebrity interviews on youtube, took a longish shower(then regretted it, remembering California’s water crisis), and even had time to finish reading that one book he’d brought with him. Myra was out on the beach near the house, lounging in the sun, probably attempting to tan or reading her cheesy romance novels she always bought on her phone. Eddie had wanted to go out to the beach, but his sunburn had been a bit worse than he’d thought, and instead opted to stay inside and wallow in his boredom for the rest of the day.

There was(finally) a tepid knock on his door, followed immediately by a familiar “Oh Eds!”. He rolled his eyes, standing up from the bed and walking over to open the door. He’d never been more thankful for a sunburn, since when he’d opened it, Richie had been wearing a brightly colored Hawaiian shirt and a pair of jorts, just like when they were kids. His eyes, as well, were covered by glasses and despite the resemblance to the glasses he owned as a child, the accompaniment of the beard made him look so much more mature. He was certain that if he could have blushed, he would’ve.

“What’s up, Richie?” Eddie asked, eyebrows raised and hand his perched on the handle of the door. He’d been waiting for Richie to come in for the last hour, but he’d been too busy making plans for his radio show.

“I just finished up some work, was wondering if you wanted to get lunch in a few minutes?” Richie looked hopeful, lightly biting his bottom lip, still in a smirk. Eddie hated when he did that, it always made his head feel like it was spinning with more forgotten memories. He looked over to the clock, fidgeting slightly with the door.

“I dunno when Myra will be back-”

“Oh, I was hoping it could just be the two of us?” Eddie tensed. His head was suddenly rushed with a memory so vivid, he thought he might’ve puked. A late night, him trying to finish his math homework but being stuck. Suddenly, Richie showing up to his door asking if he wanted to get dinner, then sneaking Eds out when he knew his mother wouldn’t have allowed him out. He felt it all over again. That same guilt of escaping from the women in his life. Of course Myra would be okay with it, but it still felt… dirty, and he hated that. This was just two old friends meeting up again and getting lunch together to talk about old times and new times, totally normal shit. Except, Myra didn’t know they were old friends at all. Maybe she’d see the way Eddie blushed under his sunburn or the way his fingers went loose whenever Richie grabbed it in one of his jokes. Maybe she’d read his mind and see all the thoughts of the past, the ones that were still shrouded in darkness, but light enough to see that what Richie and Eddie had was not like what he had with any of the other Losers. From what he could make out on his own, there were strange thoughts of nights with thrashing blankets, images of naked backs and the feeling of hot, huge hands on his chest, and neck. But still, they could’ve just been thoughts. Who didn’t get weird thoughts of their friends from time to time, right? “I can just pick something up for us, if you want me to? You can go meet up with Myra-”.

“No!” But that response had already seemed to eager. “No, no it’s okay. I’ll just text her that we’re going out for a bit. I like that plan,”. Eddie was biting the inside of his cheek, inching ever closer to the man in front of him.

“Good then!”

“Good,”.

The drive over is pretty quiet, aside from Richie asking Eddie to put on whatever music he likes. The idea of putting on the music he liked next to one of the nation's biggest radio hosts made him a bit queasy, but he manned up and put on his fifties rock playlist. When he’d heard Buddy Holly and Richie Vallens playing, he started on long history lessons on all the singers of the time. Eddie listened attentively and hummed along to the songs.

It was a nice little restaurant, a Mexican place that was decked out to the nines in colorful decorations that made Eddie feel like he was eating in someone’s home, despite it being packed. He ordered a simple bean and cheese burrito, which Richie made fun of him for since ‘ _ that’s such a you thing to order’ _ . Richie ordered fish tacos drenched in green salsa and onion slices. Eddie could feel Richie’s heartburn starting already.

“I wanted to ask,” Richie said over the steady Latin music playing in the background. He’d been almost finished with his food, while Eddie still had a way to go judging by the girth of the thing. He looked up from his burrito and raised his eyebrows. “How much of the past do you remember?” It was a simple question really, one that most people should be able to answer easily, because truly it was expected that people at least remember what the name of the school they went to was or the names of their childhood friends. 

“Not as much as I wish I could, but only the bad stuff, I guess. I remember a lot of the shit with that…  _ It _ , whatever  _ It  _ was,”. Richie took another bite and watched deeply into Eddie’s eyes. He gulped under the stare. “I don’t think you were there, but I’d seen this guy at that house on Neibolt street… at first he’d just seemed homeless, there were a lot of guys like that there. But he-” He had to set down his food to remember the thought. “His face was bulging and empty and he’d had skin peeling in every direction. I just remember him turning to me, and asking-” he whispered close to Richie, not wanted to be gross in public”-‘ Do you want a blowjob? It’ll only cost ya’ a nickel,’. The  _ fear, _ Rich. I still feel it,”. He shuddered, cursing himself for not bringing his asperator with him.

“I get ya’, Spaghetti,”. Eddie rolled his eyes, biting back a small smile. “I swear, when we went in that fucking house that first time, when ya broke your arm?” He waited for Eddie to nod along. “I thought I’d lost ya for sure. Scared the shit outta me, man. Musta literally scared the shit outta me when I saw you down there about to be turned into that clown’s Ed-kebabs because I swore from that day on that I’d never, ever see you get hurt again,”. His eyes looked so unnaturally serious for Richie, that it made his heart swell in so much unfamiliar fondness. Rich looked like he’d just out of a building for him or kill the president for him. It made him feel so warm. “I’m just so sorry I couldn’t remember you enough to keep my promise,”.

“Whaddya mean, Rich?” He leaned in further into the table, trying to see what Richie was feeling. His hands had stopped shaking, but his heart was beating so loud that everything he looked at appeared to be doubled. Doubled Richies, too.

“I just mean- Well, fuck, I don’t quite know how to say this without seeming like an asshole,”. His voice was flat when he chuckled into the back of his hand.

“You’ve always been an asshole, Richie, it’ll be fine,”. In a burst of confidence he hadn’t had in years, he reached out and grabbed Richie’s large, pale hands into his own. Eddie wasn’t all that short or small, but with his hands engulfed by Richie’s, he felt like he was the smallest man in the world, and for once he didn’t mind it.

“Shit, I-I just mean, you don’t seem too happy with some of your...decisions in life. Not that I know exactly how you think, or that I’m claiming to know better than you for you, but I still can see when one of my best friends is making bad choices,”. Eddie’s heart was racing. He was about to ask what all this was about, when Richie swooped in and answered for him. “Eds, I mean-”

“Don’t call me Eds,”. His voice was much smaller than he’d intended, and he felt gross being talked to like that.

“Sorry, Eddie, but I don’t think you’re relationship with Myra is- it just doesn’t seem healthy, is all,”. Richie brown eyes looked so concerned, real emotion laid bare here. Eddie felt tears prick up at his inner corners. He’d been told all of this before in therapy many times.

“Why’s that, Rich?” Some part of him loved hearing people’s responses to this. Most of them were that Myra was too overbearing, or that she had a clear power complex over Eddie. There was one other one that he’d heard a lot, and he dreaded the thought that Richie might’ve said it. He felt dizzy, and stupid for even asking why. He already knew why, he was aware it wasn’t healthy and hated that the only unhealthy part of his whole life had always been his human relationships. 

“Please,  _ please _ don’t take this the wrong way,” His hands squeezed Eddie’s, holding on tightly. “ But, fuck, Eddie, are you at all straight?”. And  _ oh.  _ That was really not the question he was expecting to get. He was really not expecting that, so much to the point that his jaw dropped and his hands flopped down a bit, slinking out of the other man’s hands.

“You’re not going to say she’s too much like my mom? That I have some weird fucking Oedopis complex?” He looked for any sign of disgust in Richie’s face, but there was still nothing there but that glum sorrow. He felt as though he was going to puke from just seeing it. Richie fucking Tozier never frowned, he was always wearing that dumb smirk and laughing and being an asshole. Richie didn’t care about Eddie’s marital problems.

“Well, the marrying your mom thing certainly seemed a bit obvious, but you only started dating her because your mom set you up right?” Eddie nodded, uncomfortable by the fact that Richie noticed it. “See, you only feel like you’re married to your mom because she picked out who you were going to marry. Shit, Eddie, I know you aren’t some weirdo who wants to fuck his mom, you resented her to hell and back. You just kind of… got stuck in a bad situation,”  _ Yeah, to say the least. _ Eddie’s tears had stopped now, but his eyes still burned with salt. Richie was right, and it sucked. “That’s not the point I’m trying to make, though Eds. You never showed interest in women as a kid, or a teen, and I know the Losers all thought it too, and like- It’s okay to be gay now, ya know,”. 

“Why do you care so much?” He wanted to yell, to scream at Richie for asking him such a personal question. Something that Eddie had spent decades trying not to think about. Because he was raised to think that all boys who kissed boys didn’t deserve love. He was raised to think that if he ever touched a boy sexually, he’d be damned. And all those thoughts he had in high school and college and so forth about men, about his male friends, had just been flukes and him going through a dumb experimental period. But yes, things were different now, he knew that. If anyone else wanted to be gay or bisexual or lesbian or trans, that was totally okay! He was more than fine with it.

“Do you really not fucking remember?” He looked so damn sad, and he didn’t want to make him more upset, but he shook his head regardless. “Eddie, we dated,”.

An onslaught on memories wiped over Eddie’s mind. Dates at the movies holding hands, day trips spent in Richie’s old Volvo, kissing in the front seats. Classroom passing touches and sitting in each other’s laps during lunch with the gang. Nights, the ones he’d vaguely remembered before now completely clear, where he and Richie had been engulfed in each other’s arms, naked and rubbing against each other to get any and every kind of physical satisfaction. And,  _ shit _ , Eddie being the first to say  _ I love you _ , one hot August day when he was sitting in Richie’s backyard watching as Richie cannonballed into his pool. No memory he’d felt had been nearly as shaking as this. The other shit, while hard to believe and almost mythical, that was weird, but do-able. This though, this was part of Eddie he’d forced down for long before he lost his memory of Derry. This romance had been a long time in the works in deleting from his mind, despite how  _ perfect  _ it played.

Eddie let out a shaky breath, tears rolling down his face and onto his neck. He didn’t know what to say. If it had been Bill he’d dated or Stan or Mike, he could’ve felt better about talking to Richie about it, could open up a bit better. But instead, his ex was sitting directly in front of him with so much love in his eyes, because now that he remembered, he knew it was love and not sadness. He  _ cared about Eddie _ , and that frightened him so much more than he would’ve expected it to. “How…” he had to take a sip of his water to get his voice working. “Why did it end?”.

Clearly that was not what Richie had been expecting Eddie to say, since his eyes went big, and glassy and he looked like he was going to break down in the middle of this sweet Mexican restaurant too. “Your mom,”. Of course it had been his mom, it always was. “She’d caught us while we were… ya know,” and suddenly he did, because he could remember that day in perfect detail. Richie flailed his hand around to accentuate his point. “And I don’t know what she did to you, but I got dragged down the stairs in nothing but your bedsheets, and kicked out onto the street,” he scoffed out a laugh, but there was nothing angry about it. “I’d never felt so heartbroken, but I never had the guts to tell you then,”.

Eddie was on the verge of a breakdown now. He knew just what his mother had done to him, and he could see it all in front of him as if it was happening right then. His mother had walked in, seen the two in the act and screamed. In a drunken stuper, high off sex and blacked out by the presence of his mother there, he’d began crying as well, watching and shouting for her to stop pulling Richie, to let him be, to not hurt him. When she came back, he’d been sat on his floor naked and in tears, too shocked to put any clothes on just yet. She threw his things on the floor, called him any and every slur she knew and slapped him across the face.  _ Why would you do that, Eddie! That’s not who you are, you aren’t a queer! You’ll never be loved like that, Eddie, it’s not clean! _ After that, he’d stopped letting himself think about it. He was already planning to leave to New York for college in a few weeks, and really he had no reason in seeing any of the Losers after that, not that his mother would’ve let him outside after all that had happened. So instead of letting him go off to college on his own, she moved with him to make sure he’d never do anything romantically with a boy again.

“I’m so sorry,”. He was in tears, his face red and puffy, snot dripping down from his nose and down his lips. Never had he felt like he’d hurt Richie more in his life, and this all happened decades from where they were then. He still felt responsible for it all, for his mother’s horrible attitude and treatment of Richie. “She was always so horrible to you, I-I just wish she’d have let you off easier, I’m so sorry, Richie,”. Face fell into his hands, seeing as he couldn’t see anything past the tears in his eyes anyways. He vaguely heard the sound of the hushed  _ thank you _ ’s as Richie paid for the meal. He wasn’t sure how long had passed before Richie pulled him up by his arms and escorted him out of the restaurant. There were big hands on the small of his back, and he wanted nothing more than to hate it, to shove Richie away and scold him for touching him like that. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t because he knew he needed this. 

“Eddie, we don’t have to talk about it right now, or-or ever if you don’t want to,” Richie said, concerned, once they’d gotten in the car and were starting to drive back. It was quiet, the first time Eddie hadn’t heard Richie surrounded by some music. The only sounds were Eddie’s own sniffles and coughs on his mucusy tears. “I just… I just need you to know that I’m here to talk to about this… or anything for that matter,”. He sounded like he wanted to say more, but time had given Richie restraint, and Eddie had never felt more thankful for anything ever.

“Thank you Rich, but I just need some time to think,”.

\--------------------

Myra and Eddie sat in the living room, shoving pills and sunscreen and wallets into Eddie’s cramped fanny pack. The plans for the day had been to go to Disneyland and actually spend all day there instead of bailing way too early on, like they’d unfortunately done with Universal. 

The night before, after the talk he and Richie had, was more uncomfortable in his own body than he could ever remember being. He’d gone pretty much straight to bed when they got back, claiming to be ‘getting as well rested as he needed to be for the next day’, when Myra came in asking him what he was doing trying to sleep at six in the evening. She must’ve seen some kind of legitimacy in what he was saying, since she hopped right in bed with him and snuggled down to join him in ‘resting’. She’d tried to kiss him multiple times during their rest, but every time, Eddie felt dirtier than the last. He hated doing this to Myra, having to make her think he enjoyed sleeping next to him. For as much as he knew he didn’t feel any romantic love for her, she still was someone Eddie cared about deeply, flaws and all. So when she tried to rub up against him that night, tried to get Eddie to join her in late night fun, he couldn’t even begin to think about putting up with it. Really, thinking about it now, that was all he’d ever done with her and sex. He cared about her being happy, and when she was, he could be done with it. It was horrible, and he wished with every ounce of his body that it would end.

Now though, there was no sex to worry about having, only a day of fun ahead of him and Myra and Ri-

“I’m not going, really sorry guys,” Richie was sat at the counter of his island in the spacious kitchen, stained marble tops and all, drinking a large  _ The Bachelor _ themed mug full of coffee. It wasn’t even eight am, and yet Richie was up, and Eddie wondered aimlessly if Richie got up at this time every morning. “Hey, it’ll be a nice couples date right?” He waved his arms around his head and nodded towards Myra, avoiding eye contact entirely with Eddie. Eddie never wanted to punch someone he considered his best friend more than in that moment.

“That’s very considerate of you, Mr. Tozier,” Myra beamed, smiling and grabbing at Eddie’s hand that was free. The other was making calls to get their Lyft to pick them up, since he assumed that if Richie wasn’t going, they’d have to find a way to go on their own. It was fine, didn’t bother Eddie at all. “What are you gonna be doing all day, then?” Myra asked, looking over to Richie as she did a final once over of herself in the stand up mirror propped against the door frame.

“Ah, ya know, I’ve gotta head into work, make some new playlists or whatever, clean the studio up, do some boring techy shit,” He sounded a bit sad, but regardless, Eddie could tell he was rambling. He’d said when they got there that he was given a week off to give the guests as full of a tour as he could, so there realistically was no reason for him to come into the office, except for the talk they’d had the night before. Eddie couldn’t look at him, feeling so awful about everything. Mostly, he felt awful for forgetting that they were ever a couple, and the rest was guilt that he was hiding his identity and that poor Myra had to be wrapped up in all of this with him. “It’ll be okay though, I know you two will have fun, and if you don’t-” He was staring directly at Eddie, eyes slightly red from just waking up or maybe not sleeping, Eddie couldn’t tell. All he knew was that he was making completely eye contact, and that his heart rate was picking up, and that Myra’s hand in his felt so heavy. “I’ll come grab you, guys. Even if it’s at eleven at night, you call, and I’ll be there,”. Everything he said felt so solid in Eddie’s mind as directed only towards him. It was a call back to Richie’s promise to always watch over him, and he felt sick hearing the comparison in real life. 

Myra must’ve noticed something was off, since soon after she said “Oh, Eddie-bear, you look so excited to go, come on, don’t wanna be late!”, and with a small ‘goodbye’, the two were out the door and straight to Disneyland.

  
  


“Eddie, what’s wrong, dear? You’ve done nothing but mope around, and I sweat I’ve only heard you speak five times today,” Myra was in the middle of throwing away her Turkey leg bone into the Fantasyland trash can. They’d been at Disneyland for a grand six hours, and as much as Eddie wanted to enjoy it, he felt all off balance. Every thing he saw reminded him of Richie, from the stupid Goofy hats that reminded him of Richie’s ridiculous impressions, to the Peter Pan ride, which made him tear up with the memory of the two of them on Richie’s couch one night, watching as young boys and holding hands, enjoying youth so unashamedly. 

“I’m fine, Myra, it’s just a little overwhelming, is all,” Eddie grumbled, trying to sound as normal as usual, failing miserably. The two walked over to their next ride destination,  _ Star Tours _ , and hoped that maybe being able to see his favorite childhood characters would calm him down a bit. 

For once, it did. Though he was still thinking about Richie and how he’d seen almost all the original movies with him in theaters, the joy of being shaken around with R2D2 only a few feet away from him was amazing. “Myra, can we go on that one again?” He squealed as they walked out into the giftshop. She was already moving towards the mugs and tacky matching shirts, all reading  _ ‘I love you’  _ and  _ ‘I know’ _ , with Han and Leia’s face plastered to it. He ran over to her, watching as she threw items into a cart, whispering names of people back home she was planning to give them to. “Myra?”

“What was that?” She turned to Eddie, clearly not interested in what he had to say. Feeling a bit dejected he repeated his question. “Oh, I guess if we have time. Wouldn't you rather ride something else though while we have the time?” Eddie was about to suggest they ride the Indiana Jones ride, when she butt in over him, standing at the checkout line and purchasing her gifts for people Eddie barely remembered the last names of. “I was thinking we ride- yes, thank you-” She spoke, grabbing her goody bag and walking out the air conditioned room to the hot L.A. sun. “I was thinking we go on the Haunted Mansion, or the Jungle Cruise. Something that isn’t so… ricketty,”.

There was no reason not to ride those rides, so he packed up his things, and walked with her, hand in hand as they rode every ride Myra wanted to.

  
  


By the time they’d gotten off of Pirates of the Carribean for a second time, it was just about nine at night. Eddie was getting a bit tired, but Myra absolutely insisted on watching the fireworks at nine thirty, and staying to see the Fantasmic show at ten thirty. As they walked out of the dark ride, entering a little alley in New Orleans Square, Eddie decided it’d be nice if they hit one more ride before they settled down. Having wanted to ride it since they got there, the two squeezed past crowds to get to Big Thunder Railroad Mountain, a train ride on the cusp of Frontierland and Fantasyland.  _ Fifteen minutes _ , the sign below the name of the ride read. It was just enough time for the two to enjoy their last big ride of the night before having to settle down to eat their dinner and watch the fireworks. After standing around the fifteen minutes, listening to all the families around them converse and hearing some rather boring gossip(most of the exciting things they’d heard had been earlier, when people were still fresh to the area), they finally got on the ride.

“Sir, please put your fannypack in the glove compartment,” A frail looking girl with a massive smile plastered to her face said. Eddie quickly scrambled to get the pack off and into the bigger bag in front of his legs before the ride took off. Once it was secure, the ride flew off, wind wiping past him, ducks and dives and animatronic coyotes howling at the moon around him. Not even a minute in and he could tell it was his favorite ride there. Once the ride had jolted to a stop and he’d stepped out was when he expressed his joy.

“Gosh, wasn’t that great, Myra?” He bound over to her, grabbing her arm and threading it through hers. She had a smile on as well, though not as youthful as Eddie’s had been.

“Yeah, you want a picture with it?” Eddie nodded, reaching to grab his phone out of his fanny pack- only to realize he wasn’t wearing it anymore. Patting his body rather frantically, he pulled Myra over to the side of the exit of the ride. 

“My-Myra, did you grab the fanny pack from the glove bag?” Suddenly recognizing the fear in Eddie’s eyes, her face broke out in anger.

“No, Eddie, why the hell would I have? Don’t tell me you lost it!”

“No, No, I just left it in the bag, we can go ask the people to get it for them, right?” Myra stomped over to the exit of the ride, watching as the woman scanning disabled tickets open the gate for others to enter the ride. She stormed up to her, and in her fury, practically yelled “Can we go back in? My husband left his fanny pack on the ride, and we really need to get it back now,”.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, we can’t let you go back, but we can send people to search the ride for you?” Scoffing, Myra sat down on a bench near the exit. “Sir,” She turned to Eddie now, clearly giving up on Myra. “Do you think that you guys could wait a few minutes while we look?”

“Um-” They’d had dinner reservations at the Blue Bayou set to start in eight minutes, and Eddie knew Myra had been looking forward to being able to each a nice meal together(no matter how much Eddie dreaded the idea of going on a ‘dinner date’ right then). “O-of course,”.

And so they waited, and waited, and waited, until they’d managed to wait there with no new news for thirty minutes.The fireworks had started, and at that point, they were nothing but an aggressor in the situation, booming and obnoxious, piercing every harsh word Myra was mumbling to Eddie. She only stopped when a worker, slowing walking over with nothing in his hands came over. “We’re greatly sorry but we couldn’t find the pack-”

“Do you know what was in that thing?” Myra yelled, and in his total embarrassment and fear, Eddie saw only his mother standing in front of him, towering over him like a monster(like  _ It). _ Without letting him answer, Myra went on. “It has our wallets, our phones, our tickets! It’s got everything we own, you can’t just go losing it!” She was full on yelling at the man, and what felt like the billionth time on the trip, Eddie wanted to run away. Instead he positioned himself in front of Myra, despite being a few inches shorter than her. 

“D-Do you guys have a lost and found?” He asked meekly, over the boom of the fireworks going off right behind them. The employee nodded, giving a very thorough explanation of where it was located. Eddie thanked him and they sprinted over to Main Street to find the city hall building. There was a short line outside, but after explaining why they were there to a very kind woman outside, they were immediately let in.

Eddie, as calmly as he could, explained their problem, watching as the man behind the counter typed furiously into the large computer in front of him. It was the first time he’d really been aware of how immersed in the theme park he’d been, since at the sight of a computer, he felt like he was suddenly his age again, no longer a lost boy with his mom, but a grown adult with his  _ wife. _ Myra was fuming in the corner, refusing to acknowledge Eddie’s presence there as he helped. After another twenty minutes(at this point he wasn’t even hungry for dinner, and the thought of staying any longer made him feel woozy), they plopped his fanny pack in front of him. “We're so sorry for the inconvenience, Mr. Kaspbrak, we hope you have a really great night,”.

“We’ll try, thank you!” Eddie yelled as he was being grabbed out the door by the sleeve of his J-Crew shirt. “W-What the hell, Myra?” He asked, once they were standing in the open of Main Street, families walking out the exit, and a few teens walking in.

“What the hell, Me? What the hell, you! You almost cost us everything, Eddie? What in the world made you so goddamn carless?” She shouted, and in the new silence without the fireworks, he felt a wave of tinnitus wash over him. Her face was red hot and her eyes were filled with so much hate, he briefly thought she would hit him.

“I’m sorry, Myra, I really am! I just forgot is all, no big deal!” She was about to cut him off, start yelling again, when he continued. “We got it back, alright? Nothing to worry about anymore,”. He was trying his best to sound comforting, only sounding strangled and wavy. His eyes were watering, and he was suddenly very thankful for the dim lighting around them.

“Eddie, you’ve been acting real strange all week! I don’t know what it is about L.A. that’s making you act so… so - queer, but I don’t understand and I don’t like it!” She yelled again, and the quiet following it was deafening. He was stunned, shocked she’d use a word like that as if it were nothing. “Listen, Eddie-”

“No, no,” He stepped back, eyes wider than ever. “I’m gonna head home, you can call yourself a Lyft, because Myra!” He was picking his pace up walking away, never breaking eye contact. “I’m not dealing with this tonight, this is not what I fucking need!” And with that, he was sprinting away into the crowd, taking his phone out once he knew he was far enough away from her and safe enough that he could call without being interrupted. He typed in Richie’s number, pressing the cold glass to his ear and shivering when the phone rang once, twice, and then was picked up.

“Eds, what’s up?” The room Richie was in was playing soft jazz music, Eddie only assuming he was in his own room, probably watching TV and eating dinner, something so bland and Richie like that.

“Richie? Are-are you at home?” his voice was shaking as he yelled over the sounds of screaming children around him.

“Yea, yeah, are you okay? Do you need me to get you?” Richie sounded worried now, and there was some fumbling noise in the background of the call before the music went silent. “Eds?”

“Yes please,”.

“Okay well, I’ll be there in thirty minutes, think you can hold up until then?” 

“Yes,” Eddie said unsurly.

“Ride Casey Junior while you wait, it’s got a short line and is super calming at night. Plus it reminds me of you,”. The phone was silent for a moment, and Eddie thought he might’ve hung up on him. “And Eddie?” he stopped where he was walking, towards Fantasyland. “I love you, okay?” and then the line was dead. He was given no time to respond, but he assumed, Richie had done that on purpose.

\----

This was the second awkward ride home with Richie he’d had during the trip, and it was just as uncomfortable as the last. When Richie had arrived, wearing a pair of grey joggers and a faded  _ Queen  _ shirt, he’d stopped in his tracks. Within the first second of seeing him, he broke down, tears and snot running down his face, leaving him feeling as gross on the outside as he felt on the inside. Richie, being the caring guy he was, took Eddie by the hand and pulled them along to the car, making sure Eddie was safely fastened in the passenger seat before they left. He made no mention of the fact that Myra wasn’t there with him, but it didn’t seem like an issue for the black haired male. So instead of asking why, or when, or who, they drove in silence back to Richie’s large beach house.

Once they were inside, Eddie checked his phone, suddenly bombarded with a plethora of messages from none other than Myra herself.

_ 10:13 - I’m checking myself into a hotel for the night. _

_ 10:21 - I see your phone is headed back to the house, so I hope you sleep well knowing your wife is pissed at you. _

_ 10:25 - You’re really a bastard, Eddie, you know that? I give you so much, and you still make careless mistakes. It’s a mess. _

_ 10:56 - I love you. _

“Woah there, bud, let’s put the phone down for the night,” Richie grabbed the phone out of his hands, placing it away from the couch they were both sat on, some shitty ‘90s romcom playing in the background on the large TV. Eddie was slumped against the soft cushions, eyes red and puffy from crying for so long, and he only barely had the energy to look over to Richie, watching as he stared sorrowfully at him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Eddie chuckled sadly, bringing his left forearm up to cover his eyes, and then flopping it back down to hit the couch with a thud. “Not really, to be honest,” He smiled loosely at that, anything he could do to stop feeling so damn shitty. “I messed up a bit- No, really, I did,” he had to clarify after Richie gave him a disbelieving stare. “And Myra kept yelling and saying shit, and then just… it was too much, so I told her to call a Lyft because I sure as hell wasn’t going home with her tonight,”.

“Eds, I’m sorry I didn’t go,”. Richie was sat closer now, only seven inches or so away, and Eddie could feel the heat radiating off of him. His cheeks warmed up, but he doubted anyone would be able to say thanks to all the burst capillaries that littered his cheeks from crying so hard.

“Why didn’t you? I know you didn’t have work, so don’t pull that shit with me,”.

“I figured after the talk we had about our previous relationship that you wanted nothing to do with me. I thought, ‘Well, clearly Eddie must be actually straight, and I really don’t want to make him uncomfortable’, so I let you guys go,” He was fidgeting with the hem of Eddie’s sleeve, a habit he’d had since childhood. Though now, with this conversation, it seemed a bit out of place. “I’m so fucking sorry, Eds, I had no idea it’d turn out like this,”.

“Rich, do you know what I thought about all day?” Turning to Richie completely, he grabbed the other man’s hands in his own. Suddenly, it felt as though they were kids again, like all memories of being an adult with a job and a house were sent flying out the window. It was like they were lovestruck kids again with no fear of being open to each other. “I thought of  _ you _ . Everything I saw made me think of you. Every ride was like ‘oh hey, Richie and I watched this when we were seven!’ Or, ‘oh hey, Richie and I made out while watching this in the movie theatre!’, and as much as I wanted to hate it, because I should! I was with my fucking  _ wife, _ I couldn’t. It made me so happy to even be able to remember that shit, and knowing you were part of it was so… relieving,” He let go of a breath, for what felt like the first time in a long time, finally slowing down. Richie, now practically motionless, moved his hands up to Eddie’s face, holding his cheeks and inching closer.

“Okay, than I’ll ask again,” he was getting closer, their bodies pressed up against each other’s , knees touching knees, chests touching chests, all but their pelvises meeting. “Eds, are you sure you’re straight?”

“First of all, don’t fucking call me Eds,” He was so close to Richie, their noses hitting and bumping into each other with each shaky exhale. “Second of all, I don’t think what I’m about to do is, so no, I’m not straight,”. And with that, he moved his lips in, crashing onto Richie’s in a passionate fury. And passionate it was. Never in a million years had he felt something like this, certainly not with Myra or any woman he’d kissed. He’d felt it before though, but that was with the same man decades ago, before his hair had started greying and the bags under his eyes formed.

“Eddie, are-are you okay with this?” Richie managed to get out in between wet hot kisses, lips smashed against each other. Eddie had moved on top of Richie, his legs straddling the man underneath him, and he felt another massive memory hit him, as if this was where he was meant to be all his life. His fingers threaded through Richie’s long dark hair, tingling with a want he hadn’t felt in far too long. Every memory he had of his childhood was suddenly coming true again, floods of blood pumping straight down to his hips with every deepening kiss.

“Richie, I haven’t had sex in years, I have never been more okay with anything,” Eddie murmured once he sat up to grab the TV remote and shut off whatever stupid movie was playing at the time. Now all that was left to fill the air was their heavy breathing and the sounds of the shore washing up on the beach right outside the villa. He vaguely felt the desire to go out there and fuck dirty on the sand, but his old hyperhygenic ways got in the way of that fantasy. 

Things moved in slow motion for so long, everything felt like the best trip of his life, one he never wanted to come down from. Their bodies rubbing against each other in the dry California heat of the night, all the lights in the house on, completely bare to the world around them. By the time they’d made it into Richie’s room, all of their clothes had been half-hazardly discarded at various stops in the house(a shirt by the kitchen island, both pairs of pants by the hallway, Eddie’s tighty-whiteys outside his own room door), both splayed on the bed in nothing but their birthday suits.

The sex itself, though lasting for nearly two hours, thanks to both of their memory-high states, were works of masterpieces in their own regard. None of it was perfect, in fact at times it was messy and painful and awfully unprepared, but beautiful. Eddie had forgotten the feeling of being filled so perfectly, of feeling large slightly dry hands on his most sensitive areas, as opposed to the always dripping in scented lotiony ones of Myra’s. He’d been lying when he said he hadn’t had sex in years, a few months maybe, but years wasn’t accurate at all. The sex with her though, it never felt right or good or like sex was meant to be, and really what was the point of counting it as sex if it hardly felt like it at all?

He allowed Richie to scratch up his body, leave bruises where his fingers pressed harshly into his pale freckled skin as his best friend drove his body into his own. Richie too, had a fair amount of markings by then end of the evening, and part of Eddie wanted to go to his emergency first aid kit to bandage some of the bite marks left on his shoulders and inner thighs. Richie, of course, denied this, claiming it made him feel prettier and more himself. Normally Eddie would have argued with that, but his knees felt weak,and in an odd way he understood what he was saying. Having physical evidence of Richie on his body made his life feel more real for the first time in a long time, he the memories weren’t just awful coked up imaginations, but real events in his life. This wasn’t the first time he’d had sex with Richie, he was certain of it by the way his organs opened to him so uncautiosly, like Richie was a totally fearless creature to his naturally terrified body. 

As the night ended, both men laying in sweaty bed sheets, smelling of cum and tears and god knows what else, Eddie turned to Richie. He was pulled close in Richie’s chest, tracing random nonsensical lines into the hair on his chest. Whispering, “Richie?”

“Hm?” He wasn’t completely asleep, but his eyes looked heavy and his breathing was slowing down into a relaxing lull.

“I love you,”. And truly there had been zero hesitation in his voice since he knew what he was saying and really felt it. He didn’t care that they’d only spent a very select amount of hours together over the last two decades, since it all seemed to make much more sense than he could describe in his subconscious.

And clearly, Richie got it too, since all he did was smile, kiss Eddie square on the lips again and answer, “I love you too, Eds,”.

\-------

Waking up the morning after was serene, Eddie wrapped up in the warm Los Angeles weather in the arms of his best friend, birds chirping loudly right outside the window in Richie’s room. With the better lighting and more opportunity to notice things in the room around him, he was able to fully take in his surroundings. There was a large window with the bed pressed up against it in the middle of the room, two small bedside tables next to it, flowers and a fancy alarm clock perched on it. There appeared to be a walk in closet to the left of his, or maybe it was a bathroom, but Eddie didn’t bother getting up to check. Instead, he focused on the art and pictures on the wall; all of movie poster prints, a bunch of framed vinyl covers, some photos of Richie and his family, and a few of him and his new friends. Being in Richie’s space as an adult was strange, since it all felt like Richie, but an older more evolved Richie Tozier(which really was what he was getting out of all of this trip). 

“Morning,” A deep and groggy voice yawned from above his head, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Eddie smiled, moving his head to kiss him full on, not caring about morning breath since it was just Richie. Richie’s lips felt chapped against his own, and he briefly considered going to his fanny pack to grab him some chapstick, then decided against it in favor of continuing to kiss him. “Eddie, can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” He was running his fingers down Richie’s chest and into the hairs along his stomach, a feeling he wasn’t used to anymore but enjoyed all the same.

“When you said you loved me last night, did ya really mean it?”

Without hesitating, Eddie answered. “Of course, I don’t just say shit I don’t mean, Tozier. If you need to hear it again, then I love you!” He pounced onto Richie again, pressing languid and loving kisses across his face.

“I love you too, Eds-” His phone rang, loud vibrations on his bedside table. Checking to see the caller ID, it was an unknown number, yet something in the area code made his stomach churn. “Hello, Richie Tozier speaking?”

It was silent in the room, aside from when Richie ran from the room to the bathroom to begin gagging harshly. Eddie, too confused to move, stayed in bed and waiting for him to come back. When he finally did, after 10 minutes of blankness, Eddie asked, “Who was it?”

“Mike, Eds. It was Mike. It, like  _ our It _ returned,”.


End file.
